


In Defense Of A Man With A Broken Heart

by patheticpunk



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Age Difference, Bottom Frank Iero, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Innocent Frank Iero, M/M, Memory Loss, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Recovery, Teen Romance, Top Gerard Way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-01-16 17:39:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18526393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patheticpunk/pseuds/patheticpunk
Summary: Gerard Way knows love is dangerous, but sometimes, he wonders if he cares.





	1. Diet Coke

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter of a fic I’m writing. Though i cant tell you a for sure update schedule, i wrote the first chapter of this in a week, which is the fastest ive ever written a chapter of a fic.

Gerard's widowed mother had hung herself from the chandelier that dangled over the main hall just two months after her husband's death, and four after her eldest son's nineteenth birthday. She really did love him, Gerard recalled to his therapist one foggy afternoon, she loved him to death, followed him to his grave even. I don't doubt that she loved us, but those two, they couldn't exist without each other.

Gerard had craved a love like his parent's throughout his childhood and teenage years, but after seeing what it did to his mother, he had to admit, love scared him. Love was capable of driving you to insanity, he knew. His mother was not unhappy before his father died, she had everything she could've asked for. They were wealthy, extremely so, with a handsome husband she loved with her whole heart, and two sons who meant the absolute world to her. Her life was perfect to her, there were no if's, and's, or but's about it.

In the midst of her death, Gerard didn't know what to do. His brother had been shipped off to live with his aunt for his three remaining years of high school, while he had been left in a big house, all alone, with a not so small fortune rotting away in his bank account. Gerard didn't know how to handle anything really, his emotions, his life, his money. Hell, he didn't even want money, he wanted friends, he wanted his family, he wanted someone, but everyone was gone. Gerard was nineteen, only nineteen, and in all aspects, he was really just a kid, who was now expected to deal with this drastic change.

After several months of self isolation, Gerard finally persuaded himself to leave the cavernous confines of his own home. It was a small step to others, in all honesty, but a big step for him. It was an amazingly refreshing feeling to breathe the fresh air the walls of his home seemed to taint with the scent of scotch stained death before it could reach his lungs. A new man stepping out of a coffin in jeans and a t shirt, it was amazing how put together a torn soul could look, walking the streets clean and decently handsome, it was so normal it made him wonder what normal really was.

Though it may not have sounded like the best place for a grieving man to make his first trip to after quite some time indoors, Gerard had pre-planned a short trip to the liquor store. He'd buy a packet of ramen, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and a bottle of Mountain Dew. He already had all these things at home, of course, but for his first trip back outside, he'd decided to buy the generality of what he used to on his random runs to the liquor store that was only a few blocks away. So basically, pure junk and actual poison.

Though he felt as if the sun disappeared just for him, he was more than grateful for the cloudy day. He always preferred it, stormy days without the rain, the beach right before it poured, or a visit to the park with hoods draw tight around their heads and hands stuffed deep in their pockets. All those things were reminders of better times, and though he never thought he'd say it, he missed the not-so-distant halls of his old high school; when he had no real worries, blowing off school to bum cigarettes off of friends and drink slushees behind the 7/11 till their lips froze and they had to use the others to warm themselves up. It went buy too quick, and when everyone started growing up, Gerard stayed behind. What did he need with college anyway, or a real job? There was the family business, or he could just live off his parents wealth like the suckers that used to beat the shit outta the kids he'd befriend for kicks, he could be... nothing. No, no, he had to put those thoughts out of his head, he needed to look forward, he needed to leave this god forsaken house.

And that's what he did, because Gerard was a man of his word, even if the promise was simply to himself. He opened the large wooden door that used be kept open on hot summer days so his mother could keep an eye on him as he lived off ice cream and drenched himself running through the sprinklers. Memories like that made him smile, that sad smile that makes you feel too human, that makes you wish you could be as empty as before, cause real happiness never feels good unless someone's there to share it.

Gerard's house was the biggest on the block, and though he thought it was a bit obnoxious compared to the modest homes besides him, he'd rather that than have their house located in a richer neighborhood, the kinda neighborhood where kids throw parties when their parents go off to the Bahamas for another week of unneeded vacation, getting drunk on expensive champagne and doing cocaine off the tits of the cheer captain. That was a fucking nightmare to any sane person, and Gerard was perfectly content where he lived.

Gerard attempted to keep his best smile plastered across his face as he strolled down the sidewalk; his family had a reputation around here, their neighbors loved them, they donated to the local charities any other wealthy family would blatantly ignore — giving wasn't worth much when no one knew about it, apparently — and were an all around joy personality wise. He wanted to uphold that, he didn't want his parent's death to change people's outlook on him, as selfless as it sounded, people thinking he was still good made him feel much better. He could only hope to someday be an equivalent to the shining light his parents were.

As he approaches the corner of the block, Gerard was happy to see the small pink house that had stood guarding the corner sing long before he was born, inhabited by no other than Coral Lake, the elderly woman that had been well into her years for quite some time now, seemingly as long as her house had stood, pink and one to catch the eye.

"Hello, Gerard," Coral greeted from her porch, where she displayed the serene expectation of a woman her age, rocking in old rickety chair that had probably existed well before the concrete he stood on was laid, an overweight cat curled in her lap. She obsessed her small front garden, otherwise known as an oasis to the quieter children of the neighbourhood. Though it wasn't the biggest, the garden was well taken care of, with large bushes of roses growing well over the white picket fence surrounding the area. The flowers were the main attraction of the place, of course, making the small bench nuzzled between the plants a dangerously prickly, but otherwise heavenly, space.

Gerard almost missed the pair of eyes staring at him from behind the cover of the leaves as he gave her his own passing hello's, a startling sight that had him jump back just a bit. The reaction had the leaves rustling and producing a boy, who muttered out a weak, "sorry".

"I see you've noticed Frankie," Coral chuckled as the boy gave a feeble smile. He couldn't be older than seventeen, much older than the kids that would usually hang around the woman's house in their free time, but upon closer inspection, he was not simply loitering around her property, but attending to the precious rose bushes. Gerard assumed Coral, it's be paying Frankie to care for them, but even then he was supposed to see a crisp Saturday afternoon practically wasted for such an activity. "He lives just next door, I guess you may not know him, you would've been out of high school by the time he entered, I presume, but your brother might."

"Yeah," Gerard agreed mindlessly as he watched the teen stroll across the yard barefooted, his tattered converses abandoned by the foot of the stairs of the porch. Not very tall for his age and certainly much too skinny, Frank's face still managed to be full and a bit chubby, but in the attractive way that filled in the right spaces and made him look just a bit more pretty than handsome. He wore ripped jeans and a baggy old band shirt, hair falling in his eyes every so often. Observing Frank there, it came upon Gerard's attention he'd been standing in the same place for a bit now, looking as if he meant to start off again but simply... couldn't. When taking a glance at the house Coral said Frank lived in, he was met with a small hut-like place, much smaller than even Corals modest cottage, made of dark wood. Though the house looked almost disturbing and makeshift, it had a certain charm to it, and Gerard could imagine Frank running around in the overgrown weeds that plagued the yard, collecting bug bites and scrapes.

"Where are you heading off to?" Coral asked, breaking Gerard's absent minded focus, his face heating up as his expression noticeably cracks from its previous stance.

"Just the store." Gerard forced the statement pass his lips, anxiety bubbling in his stomach. He hoped to god the woman wasn't as observant as she was friendly, he'd hate for her to think he was a fucking creep. No, he was just distracted, not use to it all. Gerard hadn't seen new people in months, the few faces he'd surrounded him with had been more than familiar, and Frank was just so pretty. Gerard really thought it was unfair, it shouldn't feel like such a guilty pleasure to stare at him for so long, like a suburban mom binging Hershey's Kisses and Hot Cheetos on her "chest day".

"Oh, that's perfect," Coral expressed her mild delight in the situation by calling for Frank, who was busying himself untangling the garden hose as he sat on the dirt floor criss cross apple sauce style. The boy's head shot up as his name rang into the air, instantly jumping up and dusting off his pants as he sprinted over to old woman's seat, his movements hyper and bursting with pent up energy, as he ran like he weighed a feather and jumped on his feet instead of simply standing. "Frankie, why don't you walk over to the store with Gerard and buy some milk, I'm all out." Coral stuffed a bill into Franks hand, almost letting him walk off before she noticed something of vital importance.

"Wait right there! Come back here and get on your sweatshirt and shoes, it's freezing out there." Coral insisted, her mind grazing over the fact Frank had been running around the outdoor patio with no sweatshirt or shoes and had been doing perfectly fine. Of course, Frank didn't argue, though he did have some reluctance as he tugged on the over-sized, pink sweatshirt that obviously wasn't bought for him originally, but sent shivers down Gerard's spine when the youngers lower stomach was exposed when he lifted him arms.

———

Frank had easily jumped into walking with Gerard, smiling up at the older genuinely. Though he was weary of strangers and fairly quiet, Coral seemed quite fond of him, and seemed to have known him since he was a young boy himself. Frank recognised Gerard could only be a few years older than him, and Frank would've assumed he was a senior if he didn't hold his own aura of maturity. It was something Gerard deliberately tried to put out, if he didn't, he would never be taken seriously, and that wasn't ideal, especially at such a devastating time as this.

Frank took his time to look over Gerard. The man stood taller than him, his posture forcibly perfect and his clothes dark. He had a sad curiosity in his eyes, some optimism laced in among all the droopy drag of emotion. Frank had an abundance of questions for Gerard, he was pressed to get his answers eventually.

"What're you gonna get at the store?" Frank asked, almost skipping as they walked. Frank felt as if he hadn't been walking around town for days, bouncing on his heels with enough energy to cartwheel all the way to the store.

"Nothing much, soda and cigs, came out more for the walk." Gerard told him, his eyes glued to the pavement in attempts to avert his eyes from the boy who walked next to him.

"Huh." Frank didn't have much to say for that, the man didn't seem boring, but he talked like he was sometimes. It was the less the words and more the tone, as if he wanted to push the statement out as fast he could so he could gulp down another breath of air. "How old are you, Gerard?"

Gerard furrowed his eyebrows in thought. It was admittedly sad he had to think about how old he was, but he didn't keep much track of time, his birthday may have already passed. "It's March? Then 19, but I'll be 20 soon." The words slipped pass his lips before he could think and when he realised, he was shocked. Twenty? That couldn't be, how could of time passed so quick?

"That's old for a kid." Frank remarked in a joking matter. Gerard was still a kid though, in all honesty, so maybe he was right. It was pretty old to still be a kid. "I'm only seventeen, it's funny now that I think about it. Seventeen seems so old when you're young, but now that I'm here I still feel like a kid."

"I don't think that feeling ever stops." Gerard agreed with Franks observation, Gerard always felt three years younger than he really was, it was a terrible habit really. "I'm still waiting for all that adult responsibility."

"Well, maybe that's good. You're free to do whatever you want." Frank couldn't imagine why Gerard would long for responsibility, it was a simple burden.

They walked in silence for a bit after that, Frank distracting himself with sights he'd seen a million times over, and Gerard contemplating the younger boy. He was fascinating, really, and for no good reason. Gerard longed to be able to justify why he couldn't pull his eyes off Frank. Sure, the boy was nice looking and his words and actions weren't particularly boring, but that description made Frank sound average, something he was far from, even if Gerard couldn't say why just yet. He'd have to figure it out.

Of course, if he'd have to figure it out he'd have to spend more time around him, something that was appealing to Gerard but most likely nothing but concerning to anyone else. Gerard was lonely, and Frank was the first person—or anything, really—to interest him in months. Was it so wrong to pursue a friendship to fill up his time?

Gerard was yanked from his thoughts as Frank yanked on his hand. Looking up, they weren't quite at the liquor store yet, it was a just a few blocks ahead of them, in seeing distance. Gerard turned to question Frank in his actions, but instantly realized the problem. As the walked across the street, a few boys Franks age (or maybe a bit older) had passed by them. It was obvious Frank held some fear towards the group, but Gerard didn't think too much of it; if Frank wanted to hold his hand than so be it. Frank let go as soon as the boys passed though, something noticeably distressing to Gerard.

"Sorry," Frank said, though he didn't seem to show any real embarrassment or apology for taking the olders hand in his so abruptly. Gerard admired Franks confidence in himself, but it brought even more questions about the group that had passed him. How could Frank feel comfortable around a near stranger like Gerard, but be utterly terrified of a group of teenage boys?

"That's okay." Gerard smiled warmly, and he was sure he was overreacting. Fucking creep, he scolded himself.

———

The two finally made it the store successfully, following each other up and down the few short isles that littered themselves with junk food and plastic wrapped sandwiches. Frank had been given three dollars to buy milk for Coral, and in turn picked out the three dollar milk as soon as they entered, following Gerard around for the duration of the shopping trip and scolding his choices teasingly.

"Mountain Dew." Frank hummed, pursing his lips critically as Gerard reached into the fridge. "That stuff is radioactive."

"Oh?" Gerard quirked an eyebrow, but picked up a few bottles anyway before turning to Frank with a question. "And what would you pick, if you know so much about these types of things?"

"Uh, I don't know," Frank puffed out his cheeks as he examined the shelves. "Diet Coke?"

"And I'm drinking the radioactive stuff!" Frank rolled his eyes at Gerard, who, despite his exclamation, plucked a bottle of Diet Coke from the top shelf and dropped it in his basket.

Soon Gerard had collected the rest of his items and the two checked out, finding themselves standing outside the store next to a loud radiator that felt warm and smelled of garlic. It wasn't the greatest place to be standing, but the idled there all the same. Gerard handed the Diet Coke to Frank, to which the younger looked up in surprise.

"You don't have to do that," Frank laughed over the noise that rumbled through the air, and Gerard, realizing the place wasn't suitable for conversation, pulled Frank away from it and down the street a bit.

"Well, I'm not gonna drink it, so if you don't it'll go to waste." Gerard told him, opening his own bottle of Mountain Dew and taking a swig.

"Why can't you drink it?" Frank dragged his finger along the rim of the can as he stared annoyed at Gerard.

"I only drink chemicals." Gerard shrugged, and Frank punched him lightly on bicep.

"Yeah, and that's what's gonna kill you." Frank opened his can of soda as they walked. Gerard dug in his pocket, finally producing a cigarette he twirled in his fingers.

"The soda or the smokes, make your bets now."

———

Frank liked Gerard, he'd decided so long after the man had walked home. He laid in his bed as he thought, that day had been much more interesting than others he'd endured. Frank knew what Gerard probably thought of him though; weird kid. Where are your friends? Don't you have any hobbies?

Yes, Frank grumbled to himself in his head as if he was having a real conversation. Of course he had hobbies. He'd care for the roses, or awkwardly teach himself rifts on Corals old instruments.

He liked the park, he liked his friends, if he could call them that. Just acquaintances really, people to chat with and people to follow around. People who liked his company, purely because he seemed blind to their actions. Frank was the only person he knew who forgave people unconditionally. Forgive and don't forget. As so, Frank was believed to be as naive as they come, but he knew, he just didn't let it affect him. What did it matter anyway, if he was hurt? He could get over it, and if he did, people would like him better.

So yes, Frank had many things to do, many friends to have, but he liked Gerard, no matter the possibly scolding thoughts running through his head.

The ceiling fan whipped around and around, making a quiet whirring sound as it cut through the air like a dull knife. Frank liked to stare at his ceiling fan as he thought, he couldn't focus much, but the fan seemed to help. He'd try and count as the blades spun, but he could never keep up. For sure though, he thought, it went around more times than he could count on his fingers in one minute. He couldn't count all the things he liked about Gerard on just his fingers either.

Earlier in the day, after Gerard had left and waved his polite goodbyes to Coral and Frank, Coral had asked Frank what he thought of Gerard.

"He's nice," Frank had answered as he clumsily mended a blouse Coral had gifted him. It was delicate old thing, off white and unisex looking enough to Frank, who didn't care much about what he wore as long as he liked it, and he liked the blouse, so what's the matter if it was intended for a girl? It fit him just fine.

"Yes," Coral agreed, "very nice. Lonely I assume. I haven't seen him in ages, I don't think anyone has."

"Lonely?" Frank furrowed his eyebrows. He couldn't imagine why anyone wouldn't want to spend time with Gerard, he seemed perfectly sweet.

"Gerard's never been the best at making friends. He was always getting into trouble though, doing something with his time. He wasn't like you," A fond smile stretches across Corals lips, "but I guess, in some ways, you're very similar. You're both very special, I'll tell you that, some of the best boys I've ever met."

Frank wanted to ask more about Gerard, but instead he took the compliment politely. Coral wasn't shy with compliments, but Frank took each and every one to heart. It wasn't often he got compliments, it only usually happened when he was first getting to know someone.

Not much more was set after that, time passed, and the night slowly bled into the sky, until it was an ocean of stars above Frank's head, leaving him to star at his ceiling, listing off the things he liked about Gerard. His hair, his eyes, his height, his shoes, his smile, his voice... Frank liked to keep it general when he first started making a list.

 

———


	2. Scary Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ones unedited folks, sorry bout it.

Gerard sat in the living room downstairs, hunching over pages of work he'd been critiquing for what seemed like hours. He just couldn't get himself to focus on the documents that had been delivered that morning, as they had been every morning as he accepted his role as the heir to his fathers business five months ago, merely six months after his mothers death, and eight months after his fathers. He'd work from home, and, miraculously and surprisingly to the employees who'd seen him grow up as a distracted and often accidentally destructive boy, he did so very efficiently. 

But not today. 

No, today he was much too focused on someone he was sure he shouldn't be so focused on to be focused on something as boring and choring as work. 

But really, could anyone blame me? Gerard thought as his hands eyes wondered to the lazy sketch he'd continue every so often, when his mind was much too plagued with the image of Frank. Yes, they really could. Those thoughts didn't stop him as he shaped the lips of the boy with his pencil. Gerard thought he was beautiful, really, and cursed himself for not being able to translate such perfection onto paper. 

Gerard had finally somehow managed to complete all his work, and though on a usual day this accomplishment would mark the time to completely crash until tomorrows activities begun again, today his mind fluttered with ideas of Frank. His fatigued mind pulling him to sleep with images scrounged up from the happiest parts of his mind; the smell of summer and freshly washed sheets, sunlight and Franks form, blowing him kisses and beckoning him over, the feeling of warm sand underneath his feet as he sprinted towards the sight, the air in his lungs feeling like honey and tasting vaguely of Diet Coke.

———

Frank knew people thought he was dumb. They thought he was naive, foolish enough to allow his peers to walk all over him. And yes, it was true people often treated him terribly, and he often let it slide, but it wasn't as if he didn't know what was happening. Of course he knew what was happening, and he wish he could say he simply didn't care, but the unfortunate truth was that he was too stubborn to let it effect him. No, he wanted life to continue on, but when one hears of someone as seemingly 'innocent' as Frank they often find it in their best interest to disregard his best interest for their own terrible needs. People were selfish that way, Frank had learned, but it was no matter, just a simple hurtle in the oncoming traffic of life's highway.

Even Gerard – who Frank had newly elected as a member of a small circle of people who actually interested him – thought Frank was naive, or childish, or all those other things that danced in people's head as Frank danced around in instinctive nature. Frank had seen it in Gerard's eyes when they walked, in his gestures and unconscious movements, but Frank liked Gerard, so he didn't pay much mind to any of it – admittedly enjoying his actions more than wishing he would stop. 

Frank mulled over his own opinions on the situation behind the left wing of his own high school, in a not so cozy little spot nestled between the dumpsters and the janitors closet that the janitor didn't even use. Though the site was all too sad to anyone who happened to witness the scene from afar, Frank simply couldn't be bothered to find himself in geometry today, or any other day he was feeling anything less than perfect. Frank's mother, had she held this information about his scholarly habits, would have said it was a heaven sent blessing he was passing, not to mention acing his classes and "tutoring" on the side – tutoring being a habit he'd given up ages ago when he realized he could make double, if not triple or more, the cash doing assignments and odd jobs for his peers; something everyone in the situation enjoyed much more than the terribly boring deed of trying to explain a simple concept to a senior who was only gonna make it into college because of a football scholarship. 

Frank enjoyed his time alone here, a break from the trials of demanding friends and even more testing authority figures he'd like to give a black eye at the next opportunity. It was very safe to say Frank much rather choke on exhaust fumes and risk diseases than face anyone some days. The entire school was a bad memory to him, a could-have-been-a-good-time-but-the-world-isn't-so-kind. It was a book a shitty teenage angst poetry and sucky jokes played on bad and good people alike, Frank wasn't sure which one he was just yet. 

On one hand, he was as pure as he put out, it's not as if he's wanted all of what's happened to have happened. But it still feels like his fault, he didn't try to stop it, not hard enough. 

Frank didn't like feeling weak, but it always creeped up on him, fast striking, quick acting, and there he was again – weak, with no who to care, no one to pick him up in sight. I'm not weak, I'm strong, for putting up with all of this. The thought runs through his head, the smallest comfort he can give to himself in the final minutes before the bell would ring, before he'd half to go back into those halls, haunted by people who were still breathing, but he couldn't risk being caught back there, it would go on his record, something that was currently clean as could be – the way he'd like to keep it.

Eventually though, Frank found himself out of time, and was rushing himself back into the halls that were quickly filling with the students being drained from their previous classes. Frank was quick with these things, he kept his head high and his heart barely grasping onto function, plastering over that fake confidence that carried him through his activities. 

To his peers, Frank was confident. Though sometimes irritatingly so, he had every right to be. He was a straight A student with a witty comment for every situation, an joke for every mishap, and a snicker for everything he said that went over the heads of his often less educated classmates. People thought he thought he was smarter than everyone else, and he did, but he didn't think he was better than them, he just tried to act like he was. 

Frank took his seat in the lunchroom next to one of his friends, it wasn't saved, but he reckoned it outta be. The others had "saved" seats – as saved as a seat can be in a high school lunch room, the place was a fucking zoo. He wasn't deserving of a permanent place at their table he guessed.

Frank knew he didn't have to sit there, he could always go over to Andy's table. He'd thought about it a few times, at least he'd actually be wanted there, it wasn't that he wasn't wanted by his friends, they enjoyed his company but if he decided to leave, they wouldn't care all much, he wasn't vital. Frank wanted to be vital, not just wanted, but needed.

But sitting with Andy? That wasn't an upgrade. Sure, Frank would get more attention, but he didn't want that attention, not really. 

Frank didn't like eating at school – cafeteria food was fucking gross, not to mention the fact he'd have to eat around a bunch of fools who couldn't manage to keep their mouth closed as they stuffed junky chips and sandwiches down their throats, laughing like it wasn't disgusting as fuck. But some days he'd forget to eat breakfast, or he'd just be extra hungry for some god forsaken reason, and his stomach would growl at him like it was fucking speaking to him, cause yeah, he's a teenage boy and teenage boys eat a fuck ton, and his stomach was seemingly the only one who could manage to fit in with the bros, cause it had a humongous appetite that could only be quenched by calorie wasters the school had the audacity to call "food". 

Today was one of those fucking days.

Frank tried to ignore it, he kept up with conversation, and that was interesting enough until they got to the topic which girls they wanted to fuck, and it was pretty fucking vulgar, and Frank didn't know if he was gay or just not a misogynistic asshole, because just cause he didn't talk about girls like they were meat didn't mean he wanted to fuck dudes, but he did, but that was besides the point because sometimes he wanted to be straight just to make a point that straight boys could be decent if they literally just thought for a second.

He also wanted to make it a point that boys who liked boys could be total dick heads too, Andy was a perfect fucking example. 

Frank finally gave in to his hunger at that point, and started to make his way over to the slowly thinning line of distracted students. Another reason Frank was really dreading going to get food was Andy, who's seat was physically impossible to not pass by when going to get lunch. 

Frank practically felt nauseous about it all, and it took everything in him not to put his head down and his hood up in some feeble attempt to draw attention away from him. He knew it was best to stay strong though. 

It's fine, it's fine, it's fine, it's fine, it's fine. 

"Hey, Frankie," 

It's not fucking fine.

The voice sends a shiver down his back, what he'd give to have the privilege of being able to run away right then, to fucking book it down the hall and not look back, what he'd do to run to Corals house, to tend to her flowers and okay with her cat, to hang with Gerard again, to not be so afraid. 

But no, Frank had to smile, smile smile smile because you're happy to be here and you know what you're doing cause you're too fucking idiotic not to. 

"How are you doing?" Andy asked, like he cared. Frank reckoned Andy should ask himself how he's doing, at least he'd be interested enough to process the answer.

"I'm doing good," Frank puts on his best smile, he's good at playing dumb. The picture doesn't even seem that off as he imagines it, Frank as a stereotypical airhead, all smiles and confusion, and the already overly present presence of bubble gum and Diet Coke.

"That's nice," Andy places an uncomfortable hand on Franks bicep, and as much as the smaller  boy wants to shake him away, he lets it be, pretending he doesn't even notice. Frank expects the hand to be attempting comfort – an addition to this fake good guy act Andy tries to play – but he winces at the pain he feels when Andy squeezes tight. "Saw you hanging around some dude the other day. What's that all about?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Frank grins, forcing himself not to stutter, forcing himself not to break his expression. He's so glad Andy's brain is too full of Monster and bubbling with comments the cheer team didn't need to notice Frank luring straight through his teeth. Andy smirked, licking his bottom lip. 

"Wanna come to Joe's house tonight?" Andy asked Frank, but his interest in the smaller boy was quickly deteriorating, his grip softer and his wide eyes wandering over to some potential victims for today's verbal abuse. "Gonna have a party and shit, y'know?" Frank knew, and the thought made him physically sick.

"I gotta babysit my little sister." Frank didn't have a little sister, but Andy didn't know that, obviously. Of course Frank started to regret that little lie of his when Andy looked back for a brief moment, and Frank started to worry Andy was gonna ask how old she was or some other fucked up shit. But, thank god, Frank was saved by the bell. Literally.

Frank broke from Andy's hold, offering a, "I've got to go" before practically sprinting out the door. He doubted any cared, Andy didn't care about much. 

———

Gerard stared himself in the bathroom mirror, gripping the edge of the counter like it was his last life line, the last thing keeping him grounded. He looked angry, furious even, and anyone would be scared of him, a murderous looking expression glazed upon his sickly white skin, but it was all aimed towards himself. 

Gerard was absolutely disgusted with himself.

He wanted to spit in his own face, punch himself. He wanted to make himself suffer, suffer like everyone around him did.

The only thing making him feel better was pathetic; he hung on to the memories of going outside just a few days ago. He couldn't bring himself to go again, but he wanted it so desperately. He felt as if he was being held captive. Held captive by his own mind, but wasn't that the worst of it all. 

And of course, he couldn't get Frank out of his head

In the two days following his small outing, Gerard had found himself completely engrossed with the pure existence of the teen. There was something about him that made Gerard feel as if he was the only thing the man could want. He had briefly wondered if it was wrong to be lusting after someone his age, but they were too far apart, it wasn't as if Gerard was thirty or something. No, he was practically still a teenager, so what was the harm in having a bit of a crush? Frank seemed mature enough, Gerard had tried to convince himself, really, he knew Frank was still just a fucking high schooler, but he refused to think about it too much, it would just make him feel worse, cause Gerard simply couldn't imagine just giving up on his infatuation, no matter how new and underdeveloped it was. 

"You're so pretty," Gerard would say, and Frank would smile, that perfect fucking smile Gerard saw just about every time he drifted off looking through the online archives of Franks school, finding whatever pictures he could, and admiring all the activities Frank participated in, "how can someone be so perfect?"

Gerard wanted to dance with Frank, wanted to watch him jump around and giggle at all the stupid things they did together. Gerard just knew they'd be so happy together, he could make him so happy.

Gerard collapsed onto the bathroom floor. "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay." Gerard told himself, but soon enough it was Frank, but he was there, he couldn't be there, he should be at home. 

"You should be sleeping.." Gerard muttered, his mind tired and his tongue heavy with the taste of alcohol. 

"Don't worry, I'm not tired, I'll sleep here with you." Frank told him, his hands pressed against Gerard's chest, that pretty, pretty smile caressing Gerard's dizzy and dazed mind.

He smiled too then, he could go to sleep right here, yeah, he could hold Frank and fall asleep and it would be okay, he wasn't alone. Moms downstairs, reading, or knitting, yeah, she's knitting one of those scarfs Mikey hates, and dads in his study, and it's late, so he should really be asleep but he can't tell Frank to go, that would be rude.

"We have to be really quiet, Frankie, or mom will ground me for a fucking month," Gerard laughs a little, but he'd really hate that to happen, he loved his mom, but she was damn strict sometimes.

"Yeah, I know," Frank whispers.

———


	3. My Knight In Cheap Hair Dye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not my favorite chapter but i hope you enjoy

Light streamed through the blinds harshly, shining down on Gerard's limp body and warming his exposed skin. He lay with his face pressed against the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, a small pool of drool forming next to him as his snores echoed through his bath tile coffin. God knows how he slept there, but he surely felt it when he woke up. 

By nine, he'd drowsily pushed himself off the floor, groaning and grumbling to himself. He couldn't believe he fell asleep on the bathroom floor, but he could barely blame himself. It had felt so real last night, and for a short while he'd somehow convinced himself everything was good, he had Frank, he had his family, he was happy and young and he could start over, he could have a good life.

But that was all too perfect for Gerard's reality, he should've known. Should've known, should've known, should've known. That's how it always goes.

And then there was Frank. Possibly the biggest disappointment of his delusions was to wake up without the smaller boy by his side. Gerard needed to see him again, needed to talk to him again. It was an easy fix to a big problem, how could he not go for it?

School got out at four, and by four fifteen, Gerard was standing on Frank's front porch, mentally building up any courage he could muster up before knocking.

———

When Gerard finally did knock, he wasn't met with his expectation of Franks face immediately swinging the door open to greet him. Instead, he heard a bit of scrambling, and then some footsteps and and what sounded like someone looking through a pile of trinkets from all the muffled clinking and clanging that seeped through the walls. 

When the door finally did open – although violently and with the familiar crashing sound of the multiple decorations that must of hung from it – a woman stood there. She looked about fifty, with slightly crooked sunglasses learned on her sharp nose and assortments of bangles dangling off her thin wrists. She wore a nice smile, and a floral dress that had once been white but aged to be an oddly attractive yellowish color. Gerard was a bit taken aback by her appearance, she dressed like a young girl with no sense of color coordination, but looked to be well into life. In fact, just like Gerard had noticed about Frank, she walked around barefoot.

"Who's there?" She greeted, and though the question seemed greatly inappropriate and as if it would be harsh, she said it as if she was telling an old friend hello, and not asking a complete stranger who they were when they stood right in front of her.

"Uh, sorry ma'am, but is Frank home? I'm one of his friends." Gerard did his best to be delicate, though his voice often reverted back to what he had deemed the best tone to get people to take him seriously – that of a cold man, which wasn't the best when he was trying to convince this woman he was a teenager, even though he didn't look it one bit anymore, youthful, and handsome, but surely not a teenager.

"Oh, you'll have to excuse me then, if I woulda known we hadn't met before I would've made my condition a bit more clear for context," she tapped her glasses gently, and as it clicked in Gerard's head, he had to keep himself from letting out a verbal expression of realization. "And no, dear, he's not home. Has debate team today." She grinned with an almost heartwarming sense of pride, "I'm his mother, in case you weren't sure."

"Oh, of course," Gerard smiled, though he guessed it wouldn't make much of a difference in his appearance, considering. He turned over the idea of saying his goodbyes and going home, maybe he'd try again some other time, but he thought better of it. Why waste a trip? "While I'm here, I might as well ask you if you'd mind helping me plan a surprise birthday party for, Frank? See, I'm really only a newer friend of his, we just met a month or so ago, but I really wanted to do this for him and I'm not too sure what he'd like."

"Well, that's wonderful, but his birthday's in October, so you're either way too early or way too late." Frank's mother laughed, and Gerard mentally cursed himself before recovering.

"I figure it'll be more of a surprise this way." Gerard tries, staring down at his shoes awkwardly.

"Ah, I like the way you think."

———

Gerard would be lying if he said the Iero home didn't fit it's residence. Everything from the invisible and forever burning incense to the appropriate over use of wind chimes and bohemian clutter matched the whirlwind of a boy he'd met and his talkative and cheery mother, both of which put out the energy that the atrocities of the world and their own inner states were unbeknownst to them. Gerard knew that statement was less than truthful, but he admired the way the two could go about all smiles and barefooted sprints without an extra second to fret over the things that they couldn't help in that moment. 

Franks mother told Gerard about Franks positions in social change based clubs, and his involvement and research into education and action to help fight social issues the plagued the country and the world. The statement it's self was a mouthful of over simplification of an idea the women could've easily confused him with. Besides his overall ignorance to the things Frank could write essays on, Gerard was more than interested to heard about Franks pursuits.

It was safe to say Mrs. Iero's insight on her own son was similar to what Gerard saw in him as well. Some how, though, what Gerard saw seemed to be more truthful than her perspective. She described Frank as kind, confident, and academic, with brilliantly ambitious plans for the future and all hope to carry them out, despite the lack of resources he may have – their financial situation was clear by the state of their home and possessions, but Gerard wondered if the woman was even aware, Frank seeming like the type to attempt to keep his mother in the dark for her own good.

It wasn't long before Gerard found himself leaving. It wasn't as if the woman was terribly boring or anything, but he'd come to the conclusion he'd drop dead if Frank found him there. 

On the logic that it would do him some good, Gerard extended his outing to a small walk around the park. He wasn't the most outdoorsy guy, and even if the park wasn't considered as extreme as the middle of the wilderness, he was still pretty out of his element.

The park itself sent chills of gut wrenching nostalgia through his bones like poison infesting his already corpse-like body. Gerard missed childhood like he never would've imagined, and he hated that he couldn't have it back. He couldn't have anything back. All he could do is look towards the future, and what he could have. He could have Frank, and he thought that was more than he deserved. It made him happy all the same, though. 

After strolling in circles and admiring the emptiness of a place with such potential to be crowded, Gerard found himself a nice spot to sit at for a little while. The place he'd decided on was a bench nestled between a few trees, almost a place to hide from how covered it was, and it would make the perfect place to key himself mindlessly scroll through whatever social media app popped up first. Gerard kept one hand shoved in his pocket from the cold, and the other awkwardly poking at buttons on his phone. It didn't take long before he was completely fed up with the entire activity, and shoved his phone into his pocket with his other hand, huffing to himself. 

Gerard was just about to drag himself out of the park and back towards his home when he spotted someone in the distance. Really, it was just his luck that he'd see Frank, good or bad he didn't know, but it was definitely an event worth noting in his mind. Gerard briefly considered going to greet him. He looked so sweet as he walked, tired from the school day and with his hands gripping onto his backpack straps dutifully. What an absolute darling. 

Before Gerard could bring himself to get up and talk to Frank, though, it seemed as though someone beat had beat him to it. Another teenager, much taller and all around bigger than Frank, rushed up to the boy and grabbed his arm. Gerard cringed at the sight, the teen was forceful and obviously made Frank upset, and Gerard could barely stand to see the situation unfold. The bigger boy smiled stupidly down at Frank, not stupid-in-love, but of course-you-love-me-stupid. They talked for a few minutes, Frank obviously waiting to walk away at the first chance, before the absolute entitled bastard of a teen put his arm around Franks back.

Gerard wondered if he should help him, staring almost helplessly at the scene as if he watched a movie with a predetermined ending. This was the end for him, he'd see Frank smile up at the taller boy, and kiss him, kiss him as he'd kissed Gerard the night before. But that was simply a dream, a fantasy never to be considered, those two, maybe they could real, maybe that boy could steal what Gerard had fallen into oh so foolishly.

Maybe Frank wanted that too.

———

Frank wanted nothing more but to find himself at home, undisturbed by even the thought of Andy. Andy, an absolute mental and physical torture, had of course spent the day tormenting Frank anyway he could. Andy would corner him every chance he got, even dropping his victims in the middle of a beating just to seek Frank out. In a way, Frank was almost happy Andy was too busy with him to fuck with those kids, but he knew his constant refusal and rejection would just end up in more pain to Andy's beloved living punching bags.

Frank almost should have known Andy would catch up with him on his short trek home from school, in the park of all places too, which was close to abandoned that time of day. Andy didn't even bother to greet Frank, his simply grabbed his arm, spinning him around abruptly and smiling like an idiot. Frank hated Andy's smile, as evil as the statement sounded, the smile was almost never associated with something good. Andy's smile was the monster under his band, the one who crept up to him in the night, reaching its claws beneath his covers and feeling him up like the good for nothing teenage football scholarship rapist he was.

"Hey, Frank," Andy said to him, his voice uncharacteristically soft in devastating failure to be smooth. Frank could on,y nod in response, but Andy payed no real mind, wrapping his hand behind the shorter boy's waist almost possessively. The thought made Frank sick, the last person he'd want to see as his own would be Andy. "I was thinking maybe we could head back to my place?"

"I don't think that's such a good idea, my mom will be worried." Frank forced the excuse out instinctively. It wasn't a lie, his mother would be worried, but if he called her she wouldn't care one bit, she could take care of herself for a night. Frank hated the look Andy made in the silence, like he knew what Frank was thinking, he simply must've.

"Oh cmon, I haven't seen you in forever, and it's a Friday! I live nearby, and we both know your mom will let you stay the night." Andy was a dumb fucker, he couldn't think up anything remotely intelligent, but he knew how to manipulate and manage people, he could do that for hours. No one could find a good enough excuse to get away from Andy if he cared enough. "Don't you miss me?" Frank almost gagged when Andy placed a quick kiss onto his lips, as if it was supposed to provoke the desire to agree to his requests. 

Frank wanted to scream, "No! No, I don't fucking miss you, and I never will! Leave me alone, never talk to me again, or better yet, anyone, you're a disgrace to human race, you sick fuck!" but he knew he couldn't. He wasn't that strong, and all he could really do is tremble, tremble and panic and hope and pray that someone would save him from the devil that reeked havoc on him from the inside and the outside, attacking every possible point of contact 24/7, the absolute disgust that soaked his veins till the hung like limp noodles numbing his body and itching his skin. The most painful, irritating numb you could ever know. No one could save him from himself, his past, but he was more than lucky someone could save him from the situation at hand.

"Frankie?" Gerard called to him from a few feet away, rushing over with some obviously fake smile (Frank had pulled enough of them to spot one faster than he could spot himself in a crowd) and an unknown purpose. There he fucking was, what Frank had prayed for in those milliseconds of torture, his knight in cheap hair dye.

Frank was more then eager to break away from Andy's grasp and find him place next to Gerard, a little too close than he should be, something that was a little too comfortable. 

"Who's this?" Gerard asked, not even trying to be polite as he took a closer look at the teenager. Andy was tall, with natural brown hair that managed to look like a shitty dye job and a startling immature face. Andy practically screamed teenage pervert, but Andy probably thought the same thing about Gerard. While Gerards offenses were much more innocent than Andy's, Andy was a stupid kid, Gerard wasn't. Or at least, he wasn't supposed to be.

"I'm Andy," the square headed teen said. Frank almost didn't know what to do, seeing both Gerard and Andy in one place was shockingly terrifying. He was more than grateful for Gerard coming around and saving him from Andy's overwhelmingly negative presence, but Gerard's passive aggressively confrontation of the kid was something that had Frank only able to blink in response. Not only did the two look as if they wanted to rip out each others throats (neither of them having a very good reason), Gerard made Andy look a millions times younger as Andy made Gerard look so much older.

It made sense, Andy wore simple jeans and his stupid Vans, while Gerard was seemingly dressed for work (or Church? maybe a wedding??), wearing a full suit and dress shoes. Fuckin dress shoes, Frank nearly fainted at that realization, if his family wasn't a total train wreck, he'd imagine Gerard would resemble his father, even though there was really only a few years difference between them.

"Gerard, we've got to be going," Frank said urgently, looking up at Gerard with the best "cmon I want to go please" eyes he could muster while tugging on his arm. It didn't take long for Gerard to comply, and after noticing the absence of the olders goodbye Frank called back to Andy. "It was nice to see you Andy, but me and Gerard have got to be going, bye!"

———

Fuck, fuck, fuck, stop it, now. You can't fucking do that, no, no, no. Gerard didn't know why he didn't just go over there; he could stop him, he could rip that boy away from Frank, he could make it better, he should just fucking do it. 

The boy asked Frank something, a sly smirk plastered on his stupid fucking face. Frank shook his head instantly, eyes cast to the ground. He's such a good boy. Why can't he run? I don't want him there, I want him to run.

But then, the boy kissed him, the boy kissed him, and as Frank stood, unmoving and terrified, Gerard felt as if he was gonna explode from pure rage. 

He pushed himself out of his seat, he shouldn't of been sitting back and watching for so long, how could he have done that to his Frankie? How terrible can he be? He was so so terrible, but never as terrible as that boy. 

As much as Gerard wanted grab the boy but his pube looking hair and stomp his head into the pavement, the man settled for a simple greeting.

"Hey, Frankie," Gerard said as he approached the two, giving the youngest boy an excuse to pull away and scurry over to Gerard's side as quick as he could, something that, despite the circumstances, made Gerard happier than it should have. "Who's this?"

As the boy scanned Gerard, Gerard did the same to him. It was obvious from his expression and gaze there wasn't so much in his appropriately undersized head, which almost bobbed atop his broad shoulders and long neck. He had hair black as the darkest depths of night, and eyes the color of rusty tin cans. Gerard desired nothing more to spit in his face, as "practically" attractive the rat may be. 

"I'm Andy," the boy said critically. Gerard wondered if he the capacity to even criticize something.

"Gerard, we have to be going now." Frank said quickly, grabbing the man by his hand a tugging him away. "It was nice to see you Andy but me and Gerard have somewhere to be, bye now!" After a wave and a plastered smile the two practically sprinted away.

———

The two had traveled a block before they let themselves slow down and pick up conversation, Frank being the first to initiate it. 

"I don't want to go home." Frank said, his hand still wrapped around Gerard's. Gerard didn't want him to go home either, really, but he wondered if Frank would be willing to go his place. "I wanna stay with you."

And, as much as he should, how could Gerard possibly bring himself to say no to that?

"We can go back to my house, if you want?" Gerard offered, squeezing Franks hand slightly. The younger looked up at him with a small, fond smile. 

"Yes, please." Frank said, fueling Gerard's thoughts as he clung to the olders side.

"We have to discuss all of this, though." Gerard said, sighing after a few moments of uncomfortable silence from Franks end of the conversation. "I want you to be safe, that didn't seem very safe."

"I guess not." Frank muttered to the ground, and Gerard felt a pang of guilt. He was really just a kid, he didn't even seem sixteen and Gerard couldn't imagine anyone being able to hurt him. But what if they had? Could Andy have had done something worse before?

"Andy isn't your boyfriend, is he?" Gerard asked as the walked slowly, hands entangled between the two, swaying back and forth in sync with their steps.

"Oh god, no." Frank almost gagged, he couldn't imagine what path would lead him to that kinda future, but he didn't wanna see it on his map. "No, never. He's just, not good. H-he isn't what I want. I don't think anyone deserves him. He's just terrible, really, but of course I can't say that."

Gerard nodded, trying not to let his mind drift away to those awful possibilities. Franks mind was unable to drift to possibilities, though, it was only able to see his reality when it thought of the horrors that Andy could inflict.

———

Frank had always wondered who's big house it was in the middle of the street, but he'd never known, not even as tragedies flooded their way out of the big double doors that served as the grand entrance perfect for a grand house. Frank didn't think he could've guessed the house was Gerard's.

In fact, as Gerard tugged Frank along with him towards the front porch, Frank reckoned he outta ask Gerard if he was on something. The place Gerard apparently called home did not at all fit the purely tragic mess of a young adult that he'd talked to, but he didn't mean that in a negative way, really. It was just that the man fit more of a starving artist type, something that spoke to Frank admittedly unrealistic romantic fantasies for the time that he believed it. That wasn't to say the idea of wealth ruined this dream, though, because Frank had a feeling it was more so Gerard himself who played into his "unrealistic romantic fantasies". 

"You live here?" Frank asked Gerard quietly as the older fumbled around, looking for his keys in his pockets awkwardly. His voice was low, he still wasn't completely sure if Gerard was delusional or not. 

"Well, it was my parents, but now it's mine, I guess, so yeah, I live here. It's pretty obnoxious looking here, isn't it?" Gerard finally got his keys all sorted out, opening the door and allowing Frank to walk in first as he continued on stuttering. "It just looks out of place on this street, I guess, but I don't know."

"It's pretty," Frank said simply, his eyes drifting from the details of the home design that had been so obviously placed with care and meticulous planning. As much as he'd love to poke and comment at all the little things he saw, his eyes drifted to the older man, who looked a bit distressed standing there, bathing in painful memories. Frank wondered if Gerard was sad, he wondered if he could fix it. How could he let someone so kind be so sad without any effort to make it a bit better?

"Um," Frank took a delicate step towards Gerard, entangling their fingers with slow and feathery touches. Gerard looked to him, and the two smiled. "Thank for you this." Frank thought for a moment after he spoke, finally deciding to plant a kiss on Gerards cheek, leaving the older with uncharacteristically rosy cheeks. The reaction was a bit of a surprise to Frank, in all honesty. It wasn't as if he saw Gerard as cold and emotionless, but he surely didn't see him as one to blush from a kiss that could easily be interpreted as friendly. 

Frank had a bit of a crush on the older, if you could even call it that, but the idea of the attraction being mutual seemed a bit ridiculous. Frank was more or less self aware, he knew that, as a teenager, he was more than likely to develop a few crushes and such on older people, and he didn't mind admitting to either. The only problem was when he looked to Gerard, he wanted feeling to be reciprocated more than ever. Frank assumed it was because Gerard was barely older than him, only three or so years stretched between them, and the chances seemed so much better than they could be. So, when Gerard blushed like that, Frank could barely stop his mind from running away with itself and straight into the trash bin of pure romantic fantasy. Frank did his best to shoo away those thoughts, there was no way Gerard like liked him. For fucks sake, he used phrases like "like liked", he was practically a child, and Gerard was a full fledged suit-wearing, house-owning, grocery-buying adult. 

He probably couldn't eat the frosting off the cake cause it's too sweet! 

"Do you want something to eat, Frankie?" Gerard asked, and Frank practically jumped out of his shoes. "Maybe something to drink?"

"Oh, some water would be nice, thank you." Frank replied shakily, staring down at his dirty old Converses. 

"Okay, well, there's no good standing here, come with me while I get that for you." Gerard told him, grabbing Franks hand with more confidence than Frank thought he'd scene the older muster out of all his conversations with him, and pulling him down the corridor towards the kitchen.

———

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how did you like it? comments, questions, predictions, suggestions?

**Author's Note:**

> yay or nah?


End file.
